


January 24th

by Hollenka99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 16:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollenka99/pseuds/Hollenka99
Summary: 6 times Dean Winchester celebrates his birthday.





	January 24th

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2017 for Dean's birthday and posted it on Supernatural Amino. I've since left the app and I'm falling behind on episodes because of assignments and I'm working on The Life of Jameson Jackson. But it's Dean's birthday once again and this time he's 40. So... what better time to put this on AO3.

1979

Mary Winchester started January 24th by cursing. John, who didn’t dare leave her, muttered support to his wife throughout every hour she continued to be in labour.

They had known each other for nearly 7 years by this point. Mary had finished seeing Slaughterhouse Five when John was introduced to her life, offering coffee. Mary was glad to have him in the aftermath of her parents’ deaths. They had celebrated their third wedding anniversary last August. Now here they were, meeting their firstborn.

The crying couldn’t come soon enough. The baby seemed to protest to being in this unusual situation with as much volume as its lungs and vocal chords would allow it.

“Congratulations, you have a little boy.”

It had already been five years since Mary’s parents had been killed by a demon with yellow eyes. She had spent all that time focusing on leaving her life as a hunter as distant from her present lifestyle as she was able. She wouldn’t let the truth of what was out there affect her family, especially now there was a defenceless child involved.

Throughout her pregnancy, Mary had toyed with the names of her parents. Whichever order she arranged the names, whatever gender she imagined her unborn child to be, the two names didn’t fit in the slightest. They only complimented each other in one scenario, as two separate people. That’s why Mary’s mother was going to be honoured first. Her father could become a namesake in a few years.

It was decided: Dean, their baby boy was going to be called Dean.

1983

Dean woke up on his fourth birthday grinning. This was going to be his last birthday with just him and his parents. Next year, when he would turn the even more impressive age of 5, he would have a little brother to celebrate with too.

Every year, Mary would make Dean a pie to celebrate the day. It was fast becoming a Winchester family tradition. And Dean was always more than happy to help his mother in the kitchen.

This year was the messiest yet. John and Mary laughed at how one little boy had managed to cover himself to such an extent.

John helped him get rid of his doughy hands and floury hair.

Clean again, Dean cuddled up next to Mary.

“Hello Sammy.” He waved at her bump. “Today’s my birthday and I’m four. That’s this many.” Thumb curled towards his palm, Dean acted as if his baby brother could see the amount of fingers he was holding up. “See? Mommy made a pie for me. It’s got apples and it’s yummy and you can get crumbs everywhere.”  
“But we aren’t going to get crumbs everywhere, are we son?” John ruffled his son’s hair.  
“No Daddy.” He shook his head, looking in his father’s direction. “Why can’t Sammy be here already? He’s been in there forever.”  
“A few more months, sweetheart. He’s too small right now. If he was born now, he’d be poorly. May will get here soon, don’t you worry.”

Dean fell asleep between his parents on the couch, missing his pie being left to cool in their kitchen.

He dreamed of his next birthday. It was going to be as good as this one was getting. It would be him, his mom and his dad like he was used to. But his brother would be there to play with him too. Next year, he could donate some of his birthday pie to Sammy.

It was an awesome fantasy birthday. It’s only a shame that it didn’t end up like that.

1984

Sam was crying. He wailed, the way Dean saw it, for no apparent reason. Maybe he was hungry, maybe he stank or there was the possibility that Sam had woken up missing Mommy.

That’s what Daddy had done a lot of recently. Dean felt it would be bad to bring that up.

Regardless, Sam’s noisy tears had woken Dean up. It was his fifth birthday. He stood up to check on Sam. John got there first.

“I got this, Dean. Go back to sleep.”  
“Is he okay?”  
“Sure. He just wants something to eat. Now go back to sleep. It’s too early for you to be out of bed.”

He didn’t like this oversized bed. Or the room for that matter. He didn’t like any of this. None of it reminded him of home. Nothing ever would. Except for extreme heat and flames.

He wanted his mommy. She would make everything okay. They needed her to be there to make everything okay.

John presented Dean with a pie after lunch. It was from a store. It did taste good but it didn’t have the warm, loved feeling he used to get from the pies Mary made him.

Dean pinched the crust, offering it to the 8 month old baby beside him. Sam inspected the piece of crust, playing with it until it ultimately scattered across the floor as separate crumbs.

Dean handed Sam another pinch of the pie’s crust, much to the annoyance of their father. He put it to his mouth, demonstrating it was edible.

John sighed mournfully. Mary had been really looking forward to their older son’s fifth birthday. If he didn’t understand why turning 5 was such a milestone then, he was just as lost now. He composed himself before either of his sons caught on. Two small arms spread across his side as far as they could. Dean was hugging him, reassuring it was going to be okay.

As Dean did so, he wondered if every birthday was going to be like this now.

2002

During what was now his 23 year long life, Dean had only ever had four birthdays without Sam. This was to be the fifth birthday he was celebrating with Sam absent.

It wasn’t as if Dean was anticipating his little brother to burst from a corner unexpectedly as a surprise. He was sure Sam was thouroughly enjoying himself in California. He was probably strolling around campus with a girlfriend that was out of his league and then some.

Dean reflected on the past year. Sam had always been so intelligent. The way Dean saw it, far more intelligent than he could ever be himself. But when Sam began confiding in Dean with his aspirations of college and living as a civilian lawyer, Dean could tell it wasn’t going to end well.

He truly did wish Sam all the best. Of course his Sammy should get out of the nightmare that was the family business. At Stanford, the only real damage Sam would suffer were paper cuts and bruises on his legs from when he unintentionally bashed into tables.

But did the son of a bitch have to destroy their family to get that? He’d never gotten on with John as well as Dean had. The two brothers wanted different things from life. That wasn’t permission for Sam to end up being disowned by John.

Dean would never disown his brother. He had practically raised Sam himself while John hunted. It had been his job, his responsibility as a brother.

“Something wrong?” John’s gruff voice distracted him from his thoughts. He was treating Dean to some beer at the local bar of where their latest case was. Or that’s what they wanted the werewolf to believe.  
“Nah.” He shrugged as his eyes caught a brunette. “That chick’s hot.”  
“Now is not the time, Dean. You need to focus. Do you know what the plan is for tonight?”  
“Yes.” He nodded, relaying it.

His thoughts drifted back to Sammy. The least Sam could have done was send a card. Granted, he and John were constantly travelling for cases but Bobby was more or less stationary. If Bobby was keeping a card safe for Dean, he would have rung by now. So Sam wasn’t even doing birthday cards now.

It wasn’t as if Dean cared. It was only another day, right?

2006

His father was missing and Dean wasn’t that bothered by his birthday. What was bothering him this morning was Sam’s voice waking him up.

He was going to tell Sam to shut up. He opened his mouth to do so. His brain woke up just enough to realise Sam wasn’t talking, he was sobbing.

He was in the other room. After listening in for a minute, it sounded very one-sided.

“-Had known, I never would have- You’d be 22 and I’d be giving you this. Dean and I never really did Christmas but we did birthdays, no matter what. When I bought it, I could picture your reaction. You would look so beautiful in a white dress.”

Dean watched as his baby brother, whom he had tried to protect all his life, shook with grief. Jess had only died two and a half months ago so the weight of her loss on Sam was still very prominent. Dean had caught Sam in moments like this before. He was always lost as to how he could console Sam.

During their childhood, they had witnessed first-hand what losing the woman you wanted to spend the remainder of your life with did to someone.

But Dean never knew Sam had planned on proposing. Oh, the poor son of a bitch.

“I bet she would have said yes.” Dean’s voice surprised Sam. He stood up, hurrying to pretend he hadn’t been caught crying. “Didn’t know she had the same birthday as me.”  
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, she did. She found it funny. But it’s just a coincidence.”

The side of Dean which fought to retain his tough guy act didn’t reign victorious over the side which wished to comfort Sam.

Sam found himself being hugged by Dean. “You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Okay.” They stayed like that for a moment, not caring about the ‘no chick-flick moments’ rule.

Their father could last one more day without their help. John was a skilled enough hunter to survive. Dean’s birthday didn’t really matter. He was a year older than yesterday. Who cared?

What did matter to Dean was Sammy’s happiness. That’s what mattered most to him, Sam.

2017

This was going to be his first birthday after Amara reunited the brothers with their mother.

Dean walked into the kitchen, following the scent of apples. Mary was making something.

“Hey Mom, what are you making?”  
“Apple pie. I don’t know whether John told you but I used to make one for your birthday every year. You used to help me too. You should have seen how dirty you were on your third birthday. I was still washing traces of dough from your hair the next day.”  
“I don’t remember that. Dad never said.”  
“It was going to be a Winchester tradition. I doubt John carried it on after I was gone.”  
“He didn’t. He did buy apple pies but that’s as far as he’d go.”  
“Really?” She seemed disheartened.  
“Well, we couldn’t bake in motel rooms anyway.” Dean reasoned.  
“I suppose so.” She shrugged.

Throughout the baking process, Mary shared various stories of their early childhoods. Sam and Castiel gladly listened in too.

Eventually, the pie was ready, cool enough to enjoy. Mary gave the first slice to Dean.

“Happy birthday, sweetie.”  
“Thanks, Mom.” Dean was finally happy to be celebrating his birthday. This is what he could have had at least once a year.

He needed this more often, just him, his best friend, brother and mother. This was turning out one of his favourite birthdays in years.


End file.
